A Part of You
by Montana-Rosalie
Summary: Five times Emma touches Killian's hook. And one time she doesn't.


**Happy Once day! I apologize in advance for this because it wasn't supposed to end the way it does when I started writing it; somehow it got away from me and turned into another death!fic. You can stop reading after the first five sections and spare yourself the pain if you want, because it's even worse than OMM. Enjoy the new episode tonight, and let us all pray that Hook finally comes back to us tonight.**

* * *

"I can't climb one-handed, can I?" he says and she rummages through the satchel until her fingers close around his hook. It's not as cold to the touch as she had expected and it's heavier than it looks, and her stomach drops at the thought that she's actually touching Captain Hook's hook.

She hands it to him and she's almost disappointed that their fingers don't touch again because she still can't believe how much it had affected her when he took her hand in his and placed it on his shoulder. It's been months since she touched a man like that, since she felt hard muscles under her fingers, since she kissed Graham and then watched him collapse and die in her arms.

"Don't think I'm taking my eyes off you for a second", she pulls herself back to the present and says sternly because it's the only way to stop thinking about him in _that _context and keep her head in the game.

"I would despair if you did", he says and clicks his hook in place, and she doesn't like the way he's looking at her, like he already knows all her secrets without asking her a single question.

"Let's go", she tells him and hangs his satchel on his hook before she turns and walks to the beanstalk, and she doesn't even have to see his face to know that he's smirking to himself.

She's got a bad feeling about all this, like something was already set into motion that she won't be able to stop, and even worse, that she won't want to.

* * *

"Sheriff Swan? Can you tell me what to do with the hook?" The nurse asks her when she goes to see what state is he in, still a little shaky because he could've been killed, telling herself over and over again that she doesn't care.

"I'll take it", she answers, and the nurse hands her the sealed plastic bag containing it. When she glances toward the door to his room, the nurse smiles knowingly and tells her that he's going to be out for at least an hour more, if she's got something to take care of in the meantime.

Glancing down the hallway to make sure Mary Margaret and David aren't anywhere in sight because she doesn't feel like explaining herself, she sneaks out of the hospital and drives to the station, on pretense of standard police procedure for dealing with evidence.

When she gets there, she opens the drawer in her desk containing his scarf and carefully takes the hook out of the bag, her thumb caressing the smooth surface before she even realizes what she's doing. She shakes herself and puts the hook in the drawer, covering it with the scarf to make sure David doesn't see it if he goes looking for the files occupying the other half of the drawer.

She gets back to the hospital with fifteen minutes to spare and slips into his room, smiling a little at the fluffy robe they dressed him in. His face is beautiful even with the bruises and cuts and she leans closer, her lips inches from his. What she's doing is insane, and she pulls away at the last possible second, but only because she knows he wouldn't be above feigning sleep and she'd never hear the end of it if she kissed him.

The truth is, if she could get away with kissing him without him knowing she did, she would do it in a heartbeat.

Instead of doing what she wants to do, she pulls the handcuffs out of her pocket, her fingers wrapping around his wrist for a second before she handcuffs him to the bed, telling herself that she's just checking that his heart is still beating, that he won't suddenly die on her like Graham did. Her own heart is hammering in her chest for no reason at all, and she rolls her eyes at her silliness and sits on the bed next to him, her eyes sliding over his figure until they reach his stump. Her first instinct is to look away because it feels like a punch in the gut, but she makes herself look, to really acknowledge the fact that Gold did this horrible thing to him, feeling an overwhelming urge to somehow fix it.

Just then, he starts to wake up and she looks up at his face, trying to school her expression and look nonchalant, but she can't help a tiny frown forming at the sounds of his discomfort because no matter how hard she tries, she can't stop herself from caring about him.

* * *

She drags him into a storage room puffing and panting because he's a dead weight and she tries to spare him any further injury, all the while hoping he doesn't wake up until she has successfully handcuffed him to the radiator.

He starts groaning just as she snaps the handcuffs in place, and she realizes that she still hasn't taken his hook, so she reaches for it, tugging left and right until she figures out how to get it off.

"What are you doing, love?" He asks her and she puts it into her pocket, quickly moving out of his reach.

It takes him about a second to sit up and feel the tug of the handcuffs and then he laughs at her, shaking his head.

"You really are into this", he says and Emma rolls her eyes, wanting to smack him upside the head for being such an idiot. She had come all this way to keep him safe, and he came after Gold anyway. Granted, he managed to actually hurt his nemesis this time, and she feels conflicted because apparently Gold is Henry's grandfather, but at the same time she thinks that he got what he had coming.

"Shut up. What the hell are you doing? How did you even get here?" She demands, and he raises his eyebrow at her in that infuriating way that makes her think about other things rising, and whoa, she did not just think that.

"I sailed my ship here. And you know damn well what I was doing. Couldn't you have waited until I had finished Rulmplestiltskin off before hitting me with whatever you hit me with?"

"You're lucky you even got to stab him once, what with that weak-ass shove you gave me", she snaps, glaring at him because she hadn't meant to say that and now she can't take it back because he's already smirking.

"Ah, so you've noticed", he says, then his expression softens. "You didn't expect me to actually hurt you, not after all we've been through together?"

"I-", she starts to say then falters because he's looking at her like he did up on the beanstalk and her resolve is slipping. She knows that she needs to make him tell her where his ship is and then leave him behind again, but it's breaking her heart and she can't understand why.

"It's okay, love, I know you feel the same", he says and she sits down in front of him, looking at him carefully. His bruises are starting to fade but she can guess that under all this bravado his ribs must still hurt like hell.

"So how did you find us?" She asks him, and he looks at her from under his ridiculous eyelashes and remains silent. "Did you actually park your ship in the middle of the New York harbor?"

"You don't park a ship, Emma, you drop the anchor", he tells her and she grits her teeth because he's being insufferable.

"Fine. Did you drop the anchor in the middle of New York?"

"I did."

"You've got to be kidding me."

"Relax, darling. It's cloaked, so nobody but me can find it", he says and winks at her, and she leans closer in anticipation. "I'm not telling you where it is until you uncuff me and give me back my hook."

"Tell me where it is and I'll uncuff you then", she offers, feeling the weight of his hook pressing against her thigh, belatedly realizing that he had to have gone through her desk to get it. Her eyes settle on his neck and she can't believe how relieved she feels that there's no scarf around it.

"I left my scarf where it was", he tells her, and she tries to give him an I-don't-care look, but judging by the way he half smiles, it clearly isn't working. He's reading her like a book and there's a part of her that really loves that about him.

"How do you expect to find your ship again if it's invisible?" she asks him, ignoring the fluttering in her stomach because he wants her to keep his scarf.

"I drew a map. Honestly, lass, don't you know anything about pirates?"

"What's stopping me from clocking you on the head again and taking that map?" she asks, getting up to her feet because it looks like she has outwitted him again.

"I don't know, what is stopping you?" he asks, looking up at her, and it's the only question neither of them can puzzle out. The fact remains that she doesn't want to hurt him if there's any other choice, but right now, it seems like there isn't. She looks around the storage room for something that wouldn't hurt him too badly, and his next words make her freeze in place.

"How about a kiss?"

"What?" She asks, and it comes out breathless instead of incredulous.

"You give me a kiss, I give you a map and then we can get out of here", he says, and she stands there, weighing her options, knowing that she has already decided.

"Okay", she finally says, kneeling in front of him, feeling a rush of anticipation that shouldn't be here but it is.

"Just like that, 'okay'?" He asks like he never actually expected her to go for it, the look on his face making her stomach drop because he's going to trust her to honor their deal and no matter how much she wants to take him with her, she can't.

"Don't you want to kiss me anymore?" She asks him, tilting her head to the side and giving him her best disappointed smile.

"Of course I do, lass", he says, sounding so sincere, and even if she might be melting from the inside out, she can't let him see it. Instead, she leans down and presses her lips against his, her hands cupping his face, thinking only about how good they fit together, how good it feels to run her tongue over his bottom lip and breathe him in.

When his tongue somehow ends up in her mouth and she feels her panties getting wet almost instantly, she pulls away and tries to get her breathing under control, angry at him and angry at herself because she even let it get this far.

"Where's the map?" She demands, and for once he looks a little stunned himself.

"In the breast pocket of my coat", he says, and she reaches for it, trying not to get lost in his blue eyes while she's doing it, refusing to glance at his lips again.

As soon as she's holding the map in her hand she straightens and starts toward the door, hating herself for leaving him for the third time, especially because she almost gets to the door before he realizes what she's doing.

"Wha- Swan, please, don't do this to me again", he says, and she almost turns back to look at him and tell him she's sorry, but she doesn't because she knows that she'd be lost if she did.

Her heart is heavy in her chest but she leaves him in that storage room anyway, wishing that just for once she can do what she feels is right and not what everybody expects her to do.

* * *

She's working late, catching on some long overdue paperwork, listening for his footsteps because she knows he's coming. He had forgiven her so easily after he got back from New York and in return she left his hook in her coat pocket so that he can steal it back again.

He shows up at various places and at various times, but one constant is that he always arrives when she's alone. They flirt and he keeps coming up with stupid innuendos and she wishes he'd kiss her already and get it over with. She finds herself thinking about that kiss they shared way too often, spacing out on entire conversations with Snow and David and then pretending that she's just stressed over Neal hanging out in Storybrooke.

"Daydreaming about me again, aren't we lass?" the object of her affection says leaning against the doorway to her office and she jumps, pressing her hand against her heart to keep it from jumping out of her chest.

"What the hell, Hook?!"

"I told you already, my name is Killian", he says, perching on the edge of her desk and looking down at her expectantly.

After seeing him exclusively in his black pirate outfit for weeks, this new development of him wearing jeans, a button down shirt and a leather jacket is only making her contemplate how long would it take her to get him naked.

"What?" She shakes her head, focusing her eyes on his, hoping to God she did not say that out loud.

"Call me Killian from now on and let's find out", he says, giving her that heart-stopping smile, her cheeks burning red.

"I can't believe I said that out loud", she says, and he scoots closer, twirling a lock of her hair around his finger before leaning close to her, their lips almost touching.

"You didn't. I'm just good at guessing what you're thinking", he says softly like he's telling her some huge secret, and Emma stares at his lips, deciding that this is it, this is the night she stops waiting for him to make the first move.

Before she can change her mind she grasps his shoulders and kisses him, heat racing along her skin when their tongues tangle together. His arm goes around her waist and he sets her on her feet, pulling her against him and holding her so tight her breath leaves her in a gasp, and it feels so wonderful to have physical proof that he wants her as much as she wants him.

She doesn't care about anything as long as he keeps kissing her like this, because now that they're finally doing it, she never wants to go back. She would let him take her right here, but the last thing she wants is her father walking in on them.

"Take me home", she whispers against his lips and they leave the station, walking across town hand in hand until they reach the harbor and he leads her on his ship.

She barely has time to glance around his cabin before he spins her around and starts kissing her again, his hand burning her waist before it moves upwards. He spends three seconds fumbling with her bra clasp before she feels the cold metal of his hook slide along her spine and makes quick work of it.

"You're paying for that", she says and he smirks, pulling her shirt over her head and then tracing his hook between her breasts until the bra lays in pieces on the floor. A part of her thinks that she shouldn't like this as much as she does, but it's so hot and she realizes she trusts him not to hurt her accidentally, much less on purpose.

She takes of his jacket, careful not to tear the sleeve on his hook, her fingers shaking a little when she starts unbuttoning his shirt, unconsciously counting the buttons as she goes, leaning closer and tracing her tongue over his chest, kissing his collarbone and biting his earlobe gently, smiling when he gasps and tangles his fingers in her hair.

They stumble toward his bed and the rest of their clothes fly off before he lays her down and starts kissing every part of her he can reach like he's trying to imprint her on his lips. She writhes beneath him when his clever fingers enter her, wrapping her arms around him tightly and tracing the scars from who knows how many battles like constellations on his back.

When she can't take this torture any longer she pushes him until he loses his balance and she ends up on top of him, wiggling her hips and smiling when he closes his eyes and groans, his teeth worrying his bottom lip.

He's so hard against her and she feels more than ready, so she guides him inside, his eyes opening and focusing on hers as their fingers entwine and she holds on, her world narrowing to blue eyes and what it feels like to fly.

Afterwards, she settles down with her cheek against his chest, his hand tracing up and down the curve of her waist, and she can't believe that something as simple as that can make her feel like the most beautiful woman in the world.

"Can I?" she asks, her arm reaching across his body until her fingers wrap around his hook. He hesitates for just a moment before he brings his arm closer and this time she doesn't fumble. She drops the hook on the floor, and then she starts undoing the leather straps on a metal contraption that's still covering his forearm.

"Emma", he says softly, and her fingers still as she tilts her head to look at him. "It's rather… ugly."

"No it's not", she says equally softly, going back to her task. She wants to show him that this thing they have is deeper than just sex and he doesn't stop her, so she reveals his stump and looks at it uncovered, blinking back tears because she can't help imagining the pain he went through.

To him it's ugly because he's subjective and he sees only the jagged scar and the abruptness with which his forearm stops, but she's subjective too and she accepts it as easily as she does his other scars because she cares too much about him to find any part of him ugly.

"It's not ugly", she says firmly and sits up, looking at him and smiling until his lips quirk up at the corners too.

"If you say so", he whispers and she knows he'd just given her the power to break him, and wows she's never going to use it. She leans down and kisses him and he traces his fingers over her breast and stomach and further down, and she can't help thinking that this is how making love is supposed to feel; this is what she's been waiting for her entire life.

* * *

She can't believe that they've just broken into Gold's shop and stole the glass case containing a hand, running all the way to the station and laughing like a couple of idiots.

They stumble inside and she feels a little stab of doubt as she thinks about what she hopes to accomplish. It's not that she's afraid of using magic; it's the possibility that she could fail and disappoint him that terrifies her.

"You don't have to do this", he tells her, noticing the look on her face, and she moves past him to her desk, settling down the glass case gently before looking at him over her shoulder.

"I want to."

He takes off his hook and hands it to her, and she puts it into the drawer with his scarf out of habit, ignoring his self-satisfied smirk. They both stare at the glass case for a moment before she opens it and takes his hand out, marveling at how good it's preserved. It feels alive against her skin, and although it's a slightly disturbing feeling, it gives her hope that this is going to work.

It takes him a full minute to take off the metal contraption because his hand is shaking and she stands there looking up at his face and thinking that if this doesn't work, she's never going to forgive herself for getting his hopes up.

"Ready?" She asks when his stump is bare and he nods slowly, his eyes holding hers for a moment before he looks down.

Angling his hand carefully with his stump she starts bringing it closer until they're touching, wrapping her fingers around his would be wrist and closing her eyes, focusing on her feelings for him, sending all her love into her fingers and willing his hand to finally reconnect with his body.

She knows the exact moment it works because a magical charge comes out of her entire body, enveloping them both. It's not until his fingers move, closing around hers that she opens her eyes and looks down, tears stinging her eyes because she did it, because his left hand is holding hers and his right is pulling her close for a kiss.

"Thank you", he says against her lips, then repeats it before cupping her face with both of his hands and looking at her, his eyes bluer than ever because he's trying to hold back tears of joy and stop them from spilling down his cheeks.

"You're welcome", she says, smiling back, wrapping her arms around his waist and thinking that even if she never does another magical thing in her life, doing this for him is going to be enough.

* * *

It happens so fast that she doesn't even get a chance to scream; Gold's sword goes in and out, and the love of her life falls to his knees, his own sword falling out of his hand as he clutches the horrible wound in his side. She runs toward them, pushing Gold out of the way, barely acknowledging that he flies sixty feet before crashing into the side of a nearby building with an audible sound of multiple bones breaking.

Her knees give out and she drops down, pulling the man she can't afford to lose across her lap, her hand covering his and watching as the blood keeps rushing through their entwined fingers.

"Emma", he says her name softly, and to her ears those two syllables sound like a declaration of love, because it's painfully clear that he doesn't have enough breath to say it properly. She looks at his eyes, forcing herself to smile even though her entire body is rejecting this reality in which she's holding his life in her hands.

"I love you", she murmurs, praying that he'll find the strength in her words and hold on until her magic kicks in. She focuses on sending it outward with every fiber of her being but it's like trying to breathe underwater because she feels like she might be dying too when she thinks about the possibility of being without him.

It's only when he closes his eyes, the shadow of his long eyelashes hiding the bluest blue from her sight that her magic leaves her and spills out into the world uselessly because nothing can touch him anymore.

She sits there, staring at his face, a horrible void forming in her soul because this is a million times worse than losing Graham; this is like having someone break your wings so that you can never lift them again just a few short months after you've finally learned how to fly.

Her parents convince her to let him go when it's already dark, and she insists on going back to the station alone. She opens that drawer in her desk that she's forever going to associate with him and takes out his scarf, wrapping it around her hand, pretending that it's him doing it, pretending that he's still with her, pretending that she's not shattered beyond repair.

Her legs can't hold her up anymore and she slumps into her chair, her eyes catching on his hook, tears choking her as she stares at it until the world is nothing but a blur the color of his stormy eyes.

She never touches his hook again, and even though it's like a stab through her heart seeing it every time she needs to take out a file from that drawer, it's also a reminder of who he was and how much he had to have loved her to fight against Gold in an unfair fight just to protect her and Henry, and that is something she never wants to forget.

In time she won't be able to remember his face anymore, but she knows that the power of his love will live on inside her because sometimes at night, when she's alone and looking up at the starry sky, she can almost hear him call her name across the unfathomable distance separating them, their hearts forever bound together.

* * *

**Review?**


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